


An Agreeable Arrangement

by AustinB



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Attempted Rape, F/F, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Oh Say Can You OC, Period Typical Homophobia, Violence, violence toward women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3335150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AustinB/pseuds/AustinB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those two idiots were such…idiots. Molly was going to wring some necks. First Bucky’s, because he was the stubbornest idiot that ever lived, and then Steve’s, because he was the stubbornest idiot in Brooklyn, but at least he'd quit pretending. </p><p>They were sitting on opposite ends of the couch as she paced before them. Steve sat on the edge of the cushion, hands on his knees, blood on his jacket collar. Bucky slouched against the back of the couch, one arm thrown over the armrest, trying to be casual, but with half a grimace on his face.</p><p>Molly stopped and stood, hands planted on her hips.</p><p>“Now listen here you little shits,” she began.</p><p>(Someone in the same situation as the boys helps them get over themselves and admit their feelings.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Agreeable Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> I just had to get this out so I could move on with my life.

Those two idiots were such…idiots. Molly was going to wring some necks. First Bucky’s, because he was the stubbornest idiot that ever lived, and then Steve’s, because he was the stubbornest idiot in Brooklyn, but at least he'd quit pretending. 

They were sitting on opposite ends of the couch as she paced before them. Steve sat on the edge of the cushion, hands on his knees, blood on his jacket collar. Bucky slouched against the back of the couch, one arm thrown over the armrest, the other cradled against his stomach, trying to be casual, but with half a grimace on his face.

Molly stopped and stood, hands planted on her hips.

“Now listen here you little shits,” she began.

 

**Six Weeks Earlier**

What a shame, Molly thought. Bucky was so handsome, and charming as all get out. As he swung her around, both of them laughing over the sound of the jazzy trumpets, she wished for the seven hundred millionth time that she could just be normal.

They were getting along famously, too. He was funny, in a flirty sort of way, and he seemed to think her quick wit and sarcasm was hilarious, whereas many other men thought her impertinent and crass.

The solid knot of anxiety that usually sat hard in her stomach and made it hard to smile through a date had long since dissipated; she was actually having fun. She tried not to worry too much about what she’d do at the end of the night and focused on enjoying herself; it was a luxury she hadn’t had much of these days.

It seemed like Bucky would remember every so often that he was supposed to be seducing her, and would lean in close with a hand on her back to say something in her ear. Molly tried to make a joke of everything, and it had been working all night. She'd make Bucky laugh and he'd lean away, and the tension was gone. She thought he looked almost grateful for it.

Molly let the night go on far too long. The dance hall was starting to clear by the time Bucky glanced at his watch and said, his lips brushing her ear, “Let’s get out of here.” If his grin didn’t quite reach his eyes, Molly couldn’t fathom why.

She would’ve made an excuse to beg off, but it would do her good to be seen coming home the next morning, and she liked Bucky, she really did. She’d rather do it with him than anybody else she’d been out with lately. And she’d rather be called a whore than a queer. At least she wouldn’t be arrested for that.

He led her by the hand back to his apartment, keeping her close. He kissed her in the lift, pressing her up against the wall. He had a nice mouth, with full, beautiful lips and he was nice about it. He kissed her slowly, expertly. Molly found herself sighing into it. It had been a long, long time since she’d felt anything but trepidation when a man kissed her. She wanted to thank him, but that would be ridiculous.

He kissed her again in the hall, and they somehow danced their way to his door without breaking apart. Molly snuck his key out of his pocket and pushed him away so she could unlock the door. Bucky laughed and crowded against her, practically pushing her through the threshold as she turned the knob. Molly laughed as they stumbled in together and Bucky closed the door behind them.

The apartment was small and cozy, but tidy. The light above the kitchen table was on, and a slender blonde man sat at it, holding a mug between both his hands.

“Oh,” Molly said, startled. The blonde man didn’t seem surprised, but he seemed embarrassed, his eyes averted and a flush on his cheeks, and definitely upset. His blue eyes were cold and hard as he fixed them on Bucky.

“Steve, what’re you still doin up? I thought you’d be sleepin by now,” Bucky said, far too cheerfully. Molly glanced over her shoulder at him, but he wasn't looking at her.

“Don’t mean to interrupt your night,” Steve said, with an apologetic glance to Molly. “You didn’t tell me you were goin out,” he said, fixing his hard stare again on Bucky, who finally walked around Molly to enter the room fully.

“That’s ok,” Molly said quickly. “I should really be getting home anyway. Another time?” she asked Bucky, sliding her hand into his. She tried conveying how much she liked him through her eyes, but he still wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was still glued to Steve.

Molly glanced between the two men, and her eyes narrowed. It was as if they’d forgotten she was there. She quickly assessed their interactions from that night and came to a conclusion.

“Sure thing, doll,” Bucky said finally, turning to face her. He cupped her face in his hands and leaned down, intending to kiss her, but she slid out of his reach and into the kitchen, which was really just an extension of the living room.

“I’m Molly Carpenter, by the way,” she said, extending her hand to Steve. That seemed to surprise him. He stood and shook her hand gently, his long, delicate fingers warm from his mug.

“Steve Rogers,” he replied, “Pleasure to meet you Miss Carpenter.”

Bucky scoffed from behind them, but Molly laughed lightly and waved a hand.

“It’s two in the morning and I’m in your apartment, I think you should call me Molly.”

Steve smiled tightly and nodded.

Bucky walked her home, apologizing the whole way. Her kitchen light was on, and Molly silently rejoiced. Coming home at two had almost the same effect as coming home the next morning. She knew her hair was a little sideways and her lipstick would have been kissed away, and Jessie would be awake to see it.

“Don’t worry about it, Bucky. It’s for the best,” she was saying.

“I don’t know about that,” he said, his pretty eyes half-lidded, sliding closer to her again.

She let him kiss her once, then leaned back to look at him hard.

“What?” he said, a half smile playing about that beautiful mouth. Molly couldn’t exactly pinpoint why, but she just knew she was right about him. Even if she wasn't, he was a good guy, he'd probably keep his mouth shut. Maybe he'd even help her.

“I’m queer,” she said quietly.

Bucky only blinked for a moment. “What?”

Despite his feigned disbelief, Molly saw the comprehension in his eyes immediately. He probably guessed it about her. Her hammering heart was suddenly relieved, so she rolled her eyes.

“You’ve heard the word before, I suppose.” She placed her hands on his chest and smiled up at him fondly. “We should do this again.” From her peripheral, she saw movement in the window, so she pulled him down to her by his lapels and kissed him once before turning and letting herself in.

Jessie was leaning against the kitchen counter in her robe, arms crossed over her chest. Her golden hair was twisted into pin-curls close against her head.

“He’s handsome,” she remarked glibly. Molly looked at her shoes and smiled coyly.

“I know how to pick ‘em,” she said, and went to her room. She stared at herself in the mirror as she removed her makeup, excited for the new possibilities and hating the world for it while she planned out an arrangement.

 *

Bucky showed up the next morning in a white shirt and blazer and invited her to breakfast. Molly was overwhelmingly delighted to see him. She felt increasingly emboldened by the simple fact that Bucky was still socializing with her as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened the night before.

“Steve seems like a swell fella,” she said over her eggs and toast at Tommy’s Diner. Bucky didn’t look at her.

“We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“He’s a cutie,” she said, just to see what he’d do. “I don’t know which one ‘a you I like better.”

He grinned at her, “Aw c’mon, I saw you first.”

*

They saw each other a lot, and Bucky still never brought it up. Molly still saw him with other girls at the dance halls, when she went out with her friends. If they saw each other too much exclusively, they’d have a whole other problem, and she figured Bucky was smart enough to have worked that out.

She even saw Steve out at the dance hall once. He was sitting at a table with a girl, his hair parted and slicked, and they both looked terribly uncomfortable. As Molly watched, Steve tried starting a conversation, and the girl replied with a two word answer, and they lapsed back into staring off in opposite directions.

Steve’s eyes were following Bucky around the dance floor, and Molly’s heart cracked a little.

“Hey, where are you going?” Jessie asked as Molly made her way toward Steve. She just waved her off. Not like Jessie'd been talking to her that evening, anyway. She was preoccupied with boys and dancing.

“Steve!” Molly exclaimed as she approached their table. “It’s me, Molly,” she said with a grin.

“Hi, Molly,” Steve said, smiling because he was polite, but he didn’t seem all that glad to see her, even though she was about to rescue him.

“Aren’tcha gonna ask me to dance?” she said coyly. “That is, if you don’t mind,” she said to his date, “You don’t seem to be making use of him.”

With that, she pulled Steve up and out onto the floor as he sputtered apologies over his shoulder.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, clearly annoyed at her rudeness _and_ at having to dance.

“Rescuing you, dummy,” she said, and led him in a slow jitterbug.

“I’m not much good at this,” he said, more than once, to which Molly rolled her eyes.

When the dance was done, Steve’s date had left their table, so Molly sat in her place.

“Geez, I’m sorry I chased off your date,” she said insincerely. Steve gave her a look that said he knew she was lying, and she laughed. “C’mon, can you really say you’d rather be with her than me?” Molly asked incredulously. “I’m much more interesting. Besides, I’ll even talk to you.”

“Bucky sets up these stupid double dates,” he mumbled, looking down at his hands in his lap.

“He means well, I’m sure.” Steve glanced to where Bucky was getting himself and his date a drink, but said nothing. “Say, you wanna come meet my friends? It’ll make Bucky real jealous,” Molly said slyly. Steve snapped his head back to her.

“I don’t wanna make him…” he trailed off to Molly’s knowing smile, and she pulled him by the hand over to where Jessie, Tara and Tammy had parked themselves. Jessie and Tammy were on the floor, but Molly introduced Steve to Tara, who kept shooting Molly “why?” glances over Steve’s head.

“I’m not surprised,” Bucky said from behind them. He had his arm around his date, and her friend was behind them, looking perturbed and a little embarrassed. “I leave him alone for two minutes and he’s found a table of dames.”

Molly laughed and laid a hand on Steve's arm. He was warming to her a little, it seemed. “I just couldn’t help myself. He protested because he’s a gentleman, but only at first. 

Steve fidgeted, brushing his bangs aside. He looked incredibly uncomfortable again, probably because they were all talking about him as if he wasn’t there.

“Why don’t you all join us?” Molly said to Bucky and Steve’s dates.

“Sorry, but we’ve gotta go, don’t we Marge?” Steve’s date was saying. She flat-out refused to let Bucky walk them home and hurried away.

“Sheesh, sorry Bucky,” Molly said, when they’d finally all sat again. He only shrugged, and went to the bar to grab them all drinks, shooting a winning smile at Tara. Molly got the sudden urge to smack him.

“Didn’t it work out between you two?” Steve asked her. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to figure out what to say. “He's been seeing you a lot, aren't you mad he came here with someone else?”

Molly canted her head, “You keep track?” Steve’s eyes widened comically, and a charming blush dotted his cheeks.

“No, not at all, I just, I’m just good at remembering names is all.”

“I like him best out of all my boyfriends,” Molly said teasingly, with a wicked grin, “And I think I’m his favorite, too. ‘Cept maybe for you,” she said casually, so only Steve could hear, and he tried choking out a few aborted denials, but Bucky was returning with their drinks.

Bucky danced with Molly most of the night, and took her girlfriends for a few dances, too. Steve refused to dance again, all apologies and shy smiles, but he and Tammy seemed to get along. Tammy was the most diplomatic personality Molly’d ever known. She’d probably become president one day. She was tall and curvy, her jet-black hair shiny and curled. She was a pin-up come to life, and spent most of her time denying dance invitations so she could sit and talk with Steve. If his dazed smile was any indication, it was a first for him.

They ended up going home separately, but Bucky gave her a quick, unexpected kiss on the mouth before they parted. He winked at her before turning to walk away, and Molly smiled at her friends, who elbowed her in the ribs and cooed at her the whole way home. If Jessie was uncharacteristically quiet that night, Molly pretended not to notice.

 ** 

“You oughta be honest with him,” Molly said without preamble when the door closed behind them. Steve was at class and Bucky had just come home from the docks to find Molly waiting at his stoop with a couple of oranges for them.

 “Honest with who about what?” Bucky said as he went into his bedroom to change his clothes.

“With you-know-who about you-know-what,” Molly said through the wall. She didn’t have to shout really, with how paper-thin the walls were anyway.

 “Obviously I don’t know, or else I wouldn’t be askin’,” he said back, muffled as he pulled a shirt over his head.

“You big dumb…,” she said under her breath and sighed. “With Steve. About how you feel.”

Bucky was quiet until he opened the door, tucking his shirt into his pants. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Don’t know what you’re talking about." 

“Bucky, if there was anyone who wouldn’t judge, you know it’d be me. I’m in the exact same boat,” she said, following him into the kitchen.

“You callin me a fairy?” he said, rounding on her angrily. She took a step back and swallowed hard, taken by surprise at his sudden vehemence. Bucky huffed and poured himself a glass of water.

“No,” she said finally. “Of course not.”

"Cos I'm not, and neither is Steve. Just cause he don't go out a lot don't mean nothing. Dames, they're vain like that. They see him and don't give him a shot." Molly opened her mouth to point out how incredibly transparent he was being but shut it again. Could he really not even hear himself? It seemed maybe his words finally sunk in through his thick skull after all, because he cursed quietly under his breath and shook his head, but didn't say anything else. They were quiet a few moments, while Bucky pointedly ignored her in favor of puttering around pretending to be busy.

“Well if you’re not gonna offer me anything, you brute, I suppose I’ll just go,” she said lightly, teasing, but he didn’t turn. She let herself out, and beat herself up the whole way home. He wasn’t ready. Why did she push him so hard? She cared about him and wanted him to be happy, but if he couldn’t admit it to himself, he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit it to her. They’d really only known each other a couple of months. Something like that, you had to hide so deep inside yourself or else it’d get you killed, and sometimes you forgot it was even there.

 **

She didn’t see Bucky for the next few days. So she accepted an invitation to go out with Harry Lyle, who was large and handsome, but rude and uncouth. A real man’s man. He hardly let her get a word in all night, and when she finally did, she wasn’t sure he even heard her.

She begged off early, and they left together so he could see her home. But he steered her in the opposite direction with a heavy hand on her back.

“I’m this way,” she said, pointing behind her and trying to turn, but his grip on her waist was hard as he pulled her along.

“We’re gonna make a little stop first,” he said, hurrying her along toward the mouth of an alley up ahead.

Molly dug her heels in and tried not to panic. Surely she was misunderstanding the situation. He couldn’t mean to... 

“Jessie’ll be waiting for me, I told her I’d be home before too long,” Molly said, suddenly breathless, trying to wrench away again, but Harry abandoned all pretense and grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her with him into the darkness of the alley.

“Hey! Stop!” Molly managed to shout before he clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Be a good girl, now, and it’ll be much easier for you,” he breathed into her face and she wiggled and wrenched and yanked for all she was worth. Harry growled under his breath and held her at arm’s length so he could rear back his hand.

Molly didn’t see it coming when he backhanded her across her left cheek. She fell against the brick of the alley and crumpled to the ground, stunned. Then he was on her, and her fight instincts kicked back in. Thrashing her legs, she aimed at any part of his body she could, but only made ineffectual contact with her shins against his. She was breathless with terror, but finally made her voice work.

“No!” she shouted.

“Hey!” a voice from the mouth of the alley said, and Harry’s weight lifted from her. He kept a hand on her shoulder to hold her down. “Leave her alone!”

Tears of joy and relief flooded her vision. _Thank you, thank you, thank you._

“This don’t concern you,” Harry growled at the newcomer.

“Get off her!” he said again, yanking at Harry’s shoulder, and the tears had cleared enough that Molly could see it was Steve.

She wriggled again, out from under Harry’s hand and stood up shakily against the wall as Harry lunged for Steve.

“Ah!” Molly exclaimed, unable to form coherent words. Harry landed a punch against Steve’s cheek, and then to his ribs. The kid wasn’t even trying to dodge! Did he have a death wish?

Molly wanted to lunge at Harry, gouge his eyes out, wished for a knife or a gun or a baseball bat. But her limbs were jelly anyway, and she still had enough reason left to know it would be ineffectual. So, she stumbled toward the mouth of the alley to shout for help, when Bucky rounded the corner at a run, looking livid.

He glanced at her, touched her shoulder, then dove past her into the fray.

Harry was bigger than Bucky, but Bucky was filled with righteous fury, and with three now against him, Harry took off after a short scuffle.

Steve was leaning against the brick wall and Bucky fisted his right hand in his collar to yank him up. He was cradling his left arm against his side. Harry must’ve gotten at him.

Bucky shoved Steve back against the wall and for a moment, Molly thought he was either going to hit him or kiss him, but he just sighed and pushed him toward the street.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up. Both of you,” he said, reaching for Molly. He touched her cheek and she hissed. With the adrenaline pumping through her veins, she’d forgotten she’d been hit. But the left side of her face was hot and was starting to throb. Bucky tightened his good arm around her shoulders and the three of them started toward Bucky and Steve’s apartment.

“That no good dirty rotten bastard,” Molly exclaimed after a few moments. She was still sort of in shock, but was beginning to come back to herself.

“Steve,” she said, reaching for him. “Thank you.” They stopped on the sidewalk so she could hug him. He flinched as she tightened her arms and she apologized. His nose was bloody and Harry had gotten in a few good body shots.

Steve shook his head as she pulled away. “Don’t thank me. I didn’t do much.”

“You stopped him,” she said, as Bucky pulled them along. “And you brought Bucky, too.”

“Yeah, you stubborn ass. You leave and I hear scuffling in an alley, of course it would be you,” Bucky said.

“I’m lucky, so lucky,” Molly said, tears clouding her eyes again as the shock wore off finally, and she started to shake.

Molly’s cheek was only bruised, so she sat her two rescuers at their kitchen table as Bucky instructed her where the first aid kit was. She washed their scrapes and bandaged Bucky’s hand.

Standing between them where they sat, she placed a hand on either of their shoulders. She was feeling sentimental all of a sudden.

“I’m glad I know you two.”

Bucky put a hand on her waist. “Me too,” he said, and made to pull her into his lap, but she resisted and flicked his ear.

“Oh please, we’re past that. It's just us here anyway, no need to pretend.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “Pretend?”

Bucky glared at her. She rolled her eyes.

“While I appreciate you keeping my secret, I think it’s safe to say the most honorable man in Brooklyn, and possibly New York State, would never tell either,” she said, helping herself to a glass of water and plopping down across from them. “Steve, I’m queer.”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “What? You?” She chuckled and nodded. “You!” he said, swinging to Bucky. “You told me that you and her were…you gave me details!”

“Bucky!” Molly chastised, scandalized and upset on Steve's behalf that Bucky would put him through that. Bucky stood, agitated, and paced to the living room.

“When did you tell him?” Steve asked her quietly. He looked like he couldn’t decide how to feel. He was half livid and half confused.

“That night we came here and you were waiting up for him.”

“I was helping her keep her cover. Tell him, Molly,” Bucky gestured between them wildly, looking a little panicked.

“Why would you lie to me like that?” Steve demanded.

“Got a reputation to uphold,” Bucky said, through clenched teeth.

“But to me? I know how much everyone loves you, believe me,” Steve said bitterly. Molly reached out and touched Steve’s arm. He looked at her, and she studied him a moment. Steve knew what she was looking for, and he gave her a hopeless look.

“OK, you two,” she said resolutely as she stood. “Come here, and sit.” They were confused a moment, but she bodily situated Bucky on the couch and sternly pointed at Steve, and then the couch. He complied, looking like he knew what she was up to, and was looking pretty grim about it.

She paced a moment, deciding how to begin. There was nothing to be done but to come out with it. “Listen here you little shits, there’s something going on between you, and you need to talk about it.”

“We don’t need to talk about nothing, Molly, what good would it do?” Bucky protested.

“Bucky, goddammit, I’ve told you this. You have a chance at something most of us only dream about.” They were avoiding her eyes, and avoiding each other’s most of all.

“Steve, Bucky's in love with you.” Bucky’s eyes slid shut in resignation as Steve’s head snapped around to him. Molly hated to take that moment away from them, confessing their love for the first time, but the idiots couldn't be trusted with it on their own. It had to be mediated, at least until it was admitted, and out there in the open between them.

After a beat, Bucky opened his eyes to glare at Molly with something akin to hatred. He probably thought she’d just ruined the most important friendship in his life. It hurt a little, but he'd thank her later.

“Steve, do you have anything you’d like to say to Bucky?”

“You love me?” Steve asked, brows furrowed, staring at Bucky like he'd just grown another head. Was he really so oblivious he hadn't even suspected it? Molly had known within the first two minutes of being in the same room with them together.

Bucky clenched his jaw and looked at his friend like he was steeling himself for rejection. “Since I knew what love was,” he answered quietly.

Steve barked a bitter laugh, and Bucky flinched. Steve saw it and reached out with his right hand to touch the side of Bucky’s face. Bucky, bewildered, turned in his seat and let Steve pull him to rest their foreheads together.

Molly started backing quietly toward the door.

“You stubborn idiot,” Steve breathed.

“You?” Bucky whispered hopefully. Steve nodded, and Molly slipped out. She practically ran home, half scared of the darkness around her and half crazed with happiness.

She slammed her front door behind her and leaned against it with a sigh of relief. It was warm, and it smelled like Jessie’s perfume. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back against the door.

“Oh my God, Moll, what happened to you?” Jessie exclaimed, rushing toward her. She was in that purple silk robe Molly had gotten her last Christmas, and Molly couldn’t help but smile. Jessie framed her face with her delicate hands, worry creasing her brows. She turned away toward the kitchen, but Molly took her wrist, making her turn back, a question in her eyes.

“I’ve been in love with you for months,” she said evenly, still smiling. Her heart felt full to the top. She couldn’t have kept it in another second, even if she’d tried. “I can find another place, it’s okay, I just…I had to tell you.”

Jessie sighed, and stepped in toward her, fingertips ghosting up her arms and to her bruised cheek, where she leaned in to press the lightest of kisses. She trailed her lips over Molly’s nose to her other cheek, and back again to her lips.

**

They made an arrangement. There would come a time things would have to change, but for now, they were happy.

Bucky spun Molly around on the dance floor, and they went on double dates. Jessie and Steve became friends, but they didn't quite have the easy camaraderie Bucky and Molly did. Steve and Jessie would hold hands sometimes, but Bucky kissed Molly at every opportunity. Steve never seemed to mind, maybe because Bucky got a dopey look on his face now whenever he looked at Steve. Molly had to kick him sometimes to snap him out of it, and Steve would blush to the tips of his ears with a happy smile.

They were walking out of a movie theater one night, arm in arm when Bucky stopped and looked up at the full moon, barely visible over the sparkling city lights.

He looked at Molly at his side, and leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Thank you,” he said.

Molly canted her head. “What for?” Bucky jutted his chin in Steve’s direction, where he and Jessie were just up ahead, standing close together with fingers intertwined, talking quietly as they waited for them.

“For being brave enough for all of us.”

Jessie looked back at them and Molly smiled.

“C’mon, let’s go get shakes. You're buying,” Molly said, lacing their fingers together and pulling him forward. 

“Steve, Molly's giving my money away again,” Bucky whined, and pulled Steve under his arm. Molly wound Jessie’s arm around her own as the four of them walked away together.


End file.
